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“So don’t put that between us too. We have enough there already.”
He gave her a long, searching look, the kind that made her want to do something utterly foolish and female. Like throwing herself into his arms. “Sure there isn’t something wrong with the car?”
She shook her head. “No, I told you she’s running like a beaut. Whatever you did made her purr.” She looked at the fists he’d tucked into the crooks of his elbows. “Magic hands, like you said.”
He moved past her to the long, wraparound counter against the wall and wiped his hands on one of the rags that seemed to be everywhere. “Yeah, well, they’ve lost their touch recently.”
Though it cost her, she didn’t approach him. “Says who?”
His head rose and his glittering, blue-gray eyes sheared her straight to the bone. “I’ll ask you once more. Why are you here?”
“I brought lunch.” Pathetic save. But dammit, his expression didn’t just make her quiver from anxiety. It was hot and intense, filled with a range of blazing emotions that ached inside her too. She’d screwed all of this up so badly, and all she wanted was a chance to make it up to him. To show him they were still friends, that she still cared.
So much.
He went back to the pile of papers spread across the countertop. “Thanks, not hungry.” He got the rag up to his nose as he sneezed. Then twice more for good measure.
“Here.” She rushed over to give him a tissue from her purse, not wanting him to inhale oil or antifreeze or God knows what else from that filthy thing. “Use this instead.”
“Thanks. I’m good.” He tucked her floral-scented, lotion-infused tissue back in her designer bag with a lip curl that would’ve been a smile yesterday. Today she was reasonably certain it was a sneer.
Prissy doctor with her fancy tissue. As if she’d ever fit in here.
Except he was wrong. She’d been wrong. These were decent guys, no different than the ones she worked with. In fact she’d bet they wouldn’t try to cop a feel under the guise of being a “good Samaritan” like Derek had tried yesterday. They seemed more honest and sincere than that.
She leaned in to touch his forehead. A light flush rode his cheekbones, the beginnings of a fever. “You’re burning up. Let me get you some soup.”
“Why do you keep trying to take care of me? I told you last night I don’t need it.”
“Maybe I want to,” she murmured, hating that she’d reared back as if he’d slapped her. Her once sturdy backbone had gone soft if she couldn’t handle a little deserved backlash from the man she’d so callously hurt. She was still working out why she’d done it, beyond the obvious reasons.
That she was just beginning to learn the man he truly was, rather than the one she’d sketched in her mind. That of the two of them, he’d proven himself to be more mature.
That he scared her to death.
It had taken him putting the brakes on their relationship for her to understand what was truly at risk. They’d stopped being merely friends the moment he’d offered her his apple. There was no going back to the way things had been. Not when she knew how much more they could be. She needed to regain his trust—and show him she wanted him exactly as he was.
He gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles white. “You don’t need to feel guilty. I was the one who pushed you into this, and I told you I’d deal with it if it ended.”
She stepped closer and lifted her hand to his jaw, leaving it there even when his body tensed. “What if I can’t? What if I made a mistake?”
“People can see us, Sara.”
She knew that very well and was already fighting to stop imagining what his buddies would say about them together. They both had chips on their shoulders, and it was past time to knock them off. “So?”
Shaking his head, he looked at her for so long that she had to fight the urge to break his stare. Then he set his hands on her arms and nudged her back, gently but firmly. “I have to call a customer. We’ll talk later.”
Her first instinct was to nod and step away. This was his workplace, and she’d helped create this situation. Forget “helped”. It was all on her. The right thing would be to leave him be.
But when she met his gaze again, the startling color of his eyes reminded her of a fresh bruise, put there by her hands. She couldn’t stand it.
She stretched up to grab a fistful of his silky, messy hair and dragged him down for a hard, brief kiss. As their lips crushed together, she tasted his groan. Felt it echo through her body. She’d barely touched his tongue with her own when he started pulling back.
It didn’t matter. The sizzle that erupted between them the instant their mouths clashed told her everything she needed to know.
Feelin
gs like this didn’t come along every day. She’d be damned if she gave them up—gave him up—without a fight. If they imploded, and he and Kim tossed her out on her ear, at least she could say she’d had the best time of her life instead of wondering what if.
